


Spotless Minds

by emma91011 (orphan_account)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind AU, F/M, Lost Love, Love/Hate, Memories, Memory Alteration, Stydia, Stydia Week, renewed love, soul mates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-06 01:56:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1840081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/emma91011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia Martin is a beautiful, sarcastic, impulsive girl who Stiles Stilinski loved with all his heart. Until she erased him. So now, he’s going to do the same. But, fate has a way of bringing lost souls together again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Stiles was confused. Well, more confused than he usually was. Whenever he and Lydia had gotten in fights before, they had made up by this point. But this time, she wasn't returning his phone calls, emails, texts, she was ignoring him. And when he went to apologize in person, Mrs. Martin answered the door, and in a paniced state, she had shooed him away. Something wasn't right.

"I don't get it! I mean, I get what I said was wrong, but this just isn't like Lydia!" Stiles exclaimed, shaking his head as he collapsed onto Scott's sofa. Leaning forward, he rested his head in his hands, but not before catching the glimpse shared between Allison and Scott. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing! I just think it's best if you leave her alone for now. It seems like she really needs the space. Maybe, she'll call you back in a few days. But until then, why don't we go out? Find you a hot girl?" Scott joked with a smile. Staring at him in disbelief, Stiles got up and began to pace the room. Allison shot Scott another worried look behind Stiles' back.

Turning on his heel to face Allison, Stiles demanded, "Have you talked to her? What has she said?" 

Fidgeting nervously, Allison shot a pleading glance to Scott, who just shrugged in return. "Well, not much. But, I don't think she'd want me to tell you anyways.." Allison trailed off, looking towards the cabinet in the corner. Scott followed her glance, and quickly got up, walking over to open the drawer. "No! Scott, you can't!" Allison protested.

"Screw it Al, he deserves to know! I can't watch him be in this much pain when she could care less!" Scott fired back.

"Fine," Allison chirped angrily, "But if this starts anymore trouble, don't say I didn't try to stop you."

Stiles watched the two fight in confusion, until Scott threw a small, yellow card in his lap. He looked down and began to read, eyes growing wide,  
Dear Scott McCall,  
Lydia Martin has had Stiles Stilinki erased from her memory. Please never mention their relationship to her again.  
LACUNA INC  
"What the hell is this?" Stiles yelled, jumping up from his seat. "Is this a joke?"

Allison went to lay a hand on his shoulder, but Stiles just shook it off. Scott looked around nervously before answering, "I don't know. It's a place that does this thing!"

"Helpful. Thanks a lot Scott," Stiles growled, before grabbing his keys, coat, and the card, and leaving. 

After various google searches, Stiles finally pulled up to a grey building in his ratty, blue jeep. He threw the doors open and stormed into the waiting room where a younger girl with concerned blue eyes looked up at him. "May I help you sir?" she asked sweetly.

"Damn right you can. Explain this!" He yelled, placing the yellow card in front of her. Her eyes grew wide as she read the words. "I want to see the doctor or whoever is in charge," Stiles demanded.

"Sir, I'm sorry but you have to have an appointment and- wait no! You can't go back there!" she called after him, racing to stop him. But, it was too late. Stiles charged into the office and came face to face with handsome man, mid-thirties, who greeted him with a smile. The assistant ran in after, explaining herself. "I'm sorry Dr. Hale, I tried to stop him but he just barged in!"

"That's quite okay Malia, go back to your desk, I'll handle him." The doctor sat down across from Stiles and smiled warmly. "What can I help you with today?"

"This," Stiles said simply, thrusting the card at him. Dr. Hale picked up the card, reading it with a frown. He gently set it down, and patted Stiles hand.

"I'm so sorry Mr. Stilinski, you were never supposed to see that." Stiles stood up, pacing around the room, confused.

"Is this a joke? What is this? Why would Lyds do this to me?" 

"I can assure you Mr. Stilinski, this is no joke. Unfortunately, patient files are confidential, but Ms. Martin was unhappy with your relationship and wanted to start over. We provide that possibility here at Lacuna," Dr. Hale explained patiently. "Now, if you want the procedure done, you'll have to schedule an appointment. Malia can help you up front."

"No, no that's okay. Thank you Dr. Hale," Stiles said in a daze.

"You may call me Peter," the doctor said with a smile as he escorted Stiles back to the front. Malia gave him a smile as he walked out, lost in thought.

For the next few hours, Stiles drove around, blasting heartbreaking ballads, crying softly. Eventually, the tears got to be too much, so he pulled over to the side of the road, sobbing softly. After a half hour, he straightened up. He knew what he had to do next. Pulling ou this phone, he googled a number. As it dialed, Stiles never felt more sure of anything in his life. He was going to erase Lydia.


	2. Chapter 2

The night before Stiles got the procedure done, he couldn't help but wonder if he was making the right choice. His mind kept drifting towards Lydia, and he wondered if she was thinking about him. God Stiles, of course she wasn't. She erased you, don't forget that. 

Stiles wondered if he should call someone. But then again, no one was supposed to contact him the night before or vice versa. It could sway his decision apparently. But as he paced through his room, he knew he had to talk to someone. Scott? No, he would tell him Lydia was a bitch and that this was karma's way of letting him finally be happy. Allison? No, she'd just tell Scott. Kira? No, she'd talk him out of it or run over and slap him. Melissa? She'd tell Scott. 

He really didn't want to call his father, but he knew that his dad was the only person who wouldn't judge or sway his decision. So there Stiles was, calling his father at 7 P.M. for girl advice. Classic. As the phone dialed, Stiles pulled out a photo. It was a group photo of Scott, Stiles, Allison, and Lydia. He had kept it as one last memento, just to look at before he erased her. 

When he dad finally picked up, tears were at the corner of his eyes. "Stiles? What's up?" his dad answered. 

Coughing, he scratched his head. "Dad... I don't know if I want to do this. I can't stop shaking and crying. I just... I love her still. I don't want her gone."

Sighing, his dad cleared his throat. After a few minutes of silence, he finally spoke. "Stiles, aren't you not supposed to be talking to me right now or whatever? Anyways, why are you doing it then?" he asked.

Stiles sat down and let out a deep breath. He thought it over, why did he want to do it? Was it really worth it? Did she feel the same way before she erased him? "Dad, I... she did it first. So it's payback. I don't want to remember this pain if she doesn't have to. It's not fair."

"Well, son, I think you have your answer. You don't want to feel it anymore. The pain... it's unbearable. And if they had had this procedure back when.. back when your mom died, I might've done it. I wouldn't want anyone to feel that pain. The pain of heartache. So, either way, I support you either way. I love you Stiles, even if Lydia doesn't." Stiles laughed at the last part, knowing his dad said it just to mess with him. He knew calling his dad was the right thing to do.

Smiling, he said goodbye to his dad, and turned his phone off. Then, he put on his pajamas, unlocked the door, and drowned the sleeping pill with a glass of whiskey. Within no time, he was asleep.

 

Lydia didn't feel right. She felt like she did a week ago. Or more precisely, a week and three days ago. And it's not like Lydia shouldn't be happy too. She had a new, hot boyfriend, Jackson, who was totally sweet. Her friends were treating her great too. So why did Lydia feel so down?

Maybe she should go take a walk downtown and visit her favorite spot, the lookout. Yes, that's what she'd do. Lydia bundled up in her favorite gray peacoat and bright red, silk scarf. She laced up her black boots and took off. As Lydia walked down the street, she felt a wave of nostalgia, as if she'd been here before, but with someone else. Which was impossible of course, it was her private place.

She sat down on the bench, admiring the twinkly lights hanging on the branches overlooking Beacon Hills. Being in high school was tough, or at least if you were going to an elite prep school. Lydia's mother had felt that Beacon Hills High School just wasn't challenging her daughter enough, but she was too relecetuant to move. So she shipped her off to Majority Falls, a Christian Institution for young women. It was a half hour away so she drove there every morning, to face a long day with grueling, genius girls. But, it was never enough.

For years now, Lydia had felt a yearning for more. Sometimes she felt satisfied, but recently she had felt the pull. And it was stronger than ever. Lydia had felt like she was missing something, a part of her almost. But she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

But that would be enough thought of that for tonight. For now, Lydia would just focus on the skyline.

 

The clock chimed eight as Derek and Jackson hopped out of the van. They pulled their supplies out of the van, and walked into the building. "What a dump," Jackson laughed. Derek rolled his eyes and searched for the apartment number. They found it quickly, and made their way upstairs. Like instructed, the guy left the door open. 

As they walked into the apartment, they found a certain brunette snoring on the ground. "Oh god," Derek groaned. "Let's get him up onto the bed and get started." Derek did most of the heavy lifting, and Jackson just dragged him along. As soon as they had Stiles all set up, they put on a silver, futuristic helmet and turned on a gray machine. The apartment was lit to life in the pale, blue light. 

"Jackson, can you go make sure the triggers are in position please?" Derek called over the hum of the machine. Jackson went straight to work, positioning the helmet and various such gizmos. Then, a photograph fell out of Stiles clamped hand. Jackson unraveled it, to see Stiles and Lydia in a tight embrace next to a brunette girl laughing and a tan boy looking down on her fondly. 

"Shit," Jackson mumbled under his breath.

Derek peeked his head around the corner of the machine. "What is it now? Did you fuck it over already? God, we just started!" he groaned.

"No, it's not that. It's... my new girlfriend. She's the girl this guy is erasing."


	3. Chapter 3

"God Stiles. You always end up fucking everything up!" a familiar voice screamed at him in an accusing tone. Stiles shot up from his bed, but wait, he wasn't in his bed. He was back in Lydia's basement. 

"Can't you for once keep one secret? I specifically told you not to mention to Scott that Allison was still in contact with Brandon but of course you had to tell him!" 

Stiles scoffed. "What did you expect? For me not to mention to my bestfriend that his girlfriend is talking to her ex? Do you not have any common sense?" Stiles felt the words leave his mouth, but they felt all too familiar. Something didn't feel right. He felt as if he had already lived this moment before. And then it hit him. He was in his memory. 

Before he knew it, he was feeling the pain of Lydia slapping him again. "You asshole! Like you're any smarter than me? You're just jealous because at least I can multiply!" 

Stiles recoiled, hurt by Lydia's insults. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "Well, Lyds, at least I can count on one hand how many people I've fucked." As soon as he said it, he wanted to take it back. 

Lydia sat up and glared at him. "Fuck you," she said simply, her red lips forming a disgusted look. With that, she got up and walked upstairs, knowing Stiles would follow her, and of course he did. 

"I'm sorry Lydia. I don't know what came over me. I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed, but Lydia had already made up her mind. She was standing by the door, holding it open. 

"Leave." It was a command, not an option. But Stiles was not going to throw away their relationship so fast. 

He shook his head and sat down on her steps. "No, I'm not leaving until we talk this out." 

For a few minutes, the two just starred at each other. Then Lydia began to scream at him, "GET OUT. LEAVE ME ALONE STILES STILINSKI. I DONT WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU EVER AGAIN FUCKING FAGGOT. GET OUT!" 

Stiles blinked in shock, hurt washing over his face. He and Lydia had fought before, but never had he insulted her like that or her to him. Angrily, he stormed out, yelling behind him, "Fine Lydia. Have fun finding someone who will treat you as well as me!" 

Suddenly, as he went to open his car door, it disappeared, along with Lydia's entire street. And then, he was at Scott's. 

"Scott, I'm erasing Lydia. She did it to me and well... I don't want her ruining my life anymore. God, I wish I had never gone to that party. Or talked to her," Stiles groaned. For the past week he had been so angry, he was ready to do this. Fuck Lydia. 

 

"I mean I can't believe this! Her mom didn't even have the decency to tell me. She should've known I would've tried to talk to her! Or contact her! I just can't believe it." Scott looked on worriedly at his best friend as he kept ranting. Stiles was so angry, with every right to be, but this was a huge mistake. 

Stiles felt himself slipping away, another memory erased. And suddenly he was in a doctors office. 

"Mr. Stilinski? It's your turn. Come on back!" Malia called, a cheerful smile on her face. As he followed her back, Stiles couldn't help from feeling as if he knew her. 

"Do I know you?" Stiles asked. "Sorry, that came out extremely rude," he laughed, shaking his head. 

Malia gave him a warm smile. "I go to your school. But you wouldn't know me, I don't expect you too." 

Stiles face grew warm. "I'm sorry. God, how embarrassing. But please, don't tell anyone," Stiles pleaded, a sheepish smile on his face. 

Malia laughed, "Don't worry. Patient confidentiality. Now please sit in this chair and when Derek holds up an item, I want you to think about the memory so he can map it."

Stiles went into a white, sleek room and sat down in a brown, leather chair. A disheveled brunette man sat in front of him, black trash bag full of memories by his side. "Alright, lets begin. Please refrain from telling personal stories. It's easier to track the memory without any distractions."

Derek pulled out a postcard from New York and suddenly, Stiles was jerked forward into a swarm of memories filled with Lydia. Stiles suddenly understood, this was it. There was no going back. It had begun.


	4. Chapter 4

Derek paced around Stile's bedroom nervously. "Jackson..." he began, then paused. Sighing, he sat down. "Jackson I don't want to hear anymore. Not tonight. We're on a job, lets just finish it. And you should probably breakup with Lydia, can't tell her the truth."

Jackson's jaw set in a fine line. "No thanks," he growled. Derek rolled his eyes and moved back to the machine, going back to work. But, Jackson refused to work. After a few more minutes of angry silence, Jackson stoop up and grabbed his coat, marching to the door. '

"Where are you going?" Derek called, clearly annoyed.

Smirking, Jackson replied, "Lydia's. See ya tomorrow, boss." Venom dripping in his voice, Jackson slammed the door, went to his car, and called up Lydia. Three rings later, she finally picked up.

"Hello?" a musical voice answered.

"Hey Lyds, I'll be there in twenty minutes, get ready, I'm taking you out!"

 

Inside, Derek was torn at what to do. Should he call Peter? No, dumb idea, Peter would get angry at Jackson, which as much as he hated Jackson, he couldn't have that. He needed an assistant. Could he call...? No. Nope. No way. Too inexperienced. But... "Damnit," Derek mumbled as he pulled his phone out. The other line picked up. "Hey Malia, I need some help. I'll text you the address. And Malia... Don't tell your father."

 

A swirl of snowflakes fell softly onto the gorgeous, redhead's face, lining her hair with a sparkly touch. Stiles watched as her eyes lit up, and she skated blissfully, turning to him and ushering him onto the ice. "Oh Stiles, I love the snow! I haven't seen it in so long! Look how beautiful it is!" Lydia squealed, pulling Stiles closer to her. Their noses touched, and Stiles leaned in, kissing her fondly. 

"You're beautiful," he whispered into her ear, kissing down her neck. But, she swatted his arm away.

With an angry look on her face, she hissed, "Stiles! We're in public! Stop acting like a horny teenager and be mature for once." Rolling her eyes, she took off, leaving a pissed Stiles behind.

Getting angrier by the minute, Stiles suddenly took off after her, grabbing her arm. "Well Lydia, maybe if you weren't such a bitch, you could act mature too!" he sneered at her. Pursing her lips, she pushed him away from her and skated over towards the benches. Stiles followed her reluctantly. 

Lydia sat down, furiously unlacing her skates. "One evening, that's all I wanted Stiles. But god, no, you can't even give me that, can you?" Tossing her skates into her pink bag, Lydia stormed off. In a second, Stiles was after her. 

"Lydia, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to act so immature. I just can't help myself when I'm around you. I love you!" he exclaimed, hands falling down to his side in defeat. Suddenly, Lydia stopped walking and turned around to face him, an unreadable expression on her face.

"You love me?" she asked quietly. God Stiles! How idiotic can you get? You've been dating her for only four months and you blurt out that you love her? How can you be so - then, Stiles was cut off with his thoughts when Lydia's lips crashed onto his. "I love you!" she cried, smiling and laughing.

Holding hands, giggling, they walked back to the hotel, full of love. "I love you. I love you. I love you, Lydia Martin, and I will never stop," Stiles murmured, caressing Lydia's curves, breathing in her scent. Slowly, Lydia made eye contact with Stiles, looking slightly nervous. 

"Stiles... I've never... This would be my first time," she whispered, closing her eyes in embarrassment. Stiles smiled down on her, eyes shining with adoration.

Laughing, Stiles began to kiss her neck, slowly moving up to her ear. "It's mine too," he replied warmly. Taking in every inch of her body as he undressed her, Stiles began to cry. Kissing. Touching. Love. Pain. Lydia began to cry, but Stiles wiped away the tears with the pad of his thumb. She was so warm, practically glowing. They moved together, almost rhythmically, like a beautiful song. A puzzle piece. They fit together.

Smiling, Lydia gazed at Stiles underneath her lashes. "I love you," she said to him, then kissed him passionately. Stiles' heart swelled. Then it shattered. 

"No, no, not this one," he cried out. "Please wait! Don't erase it just yet. No, turn it off! Lydia!" he cried, as she started to fade away. He tried to pull her away, but it was too late, the memory had been made. Slowly, she disappeared, her lips still saying a silent, 'I love you' as they went. And then, it was just Stiles, alone. No Lydia to fulfill him anymore.

But, then Stiles was jerked into another memory. "Stiles!" she called to him, laughing in complete happiness. They were on his couch, and he was tickling her, he loved to hear Lydia laugh. "Stop it!" she screeched, "Stiles, I can't breathe!" Lydia collapsed into a pile of giggles, and rested her head on his chest.

Stiles leaned down to kiss her, lifting her chin up delicately. Lydia gazed into his eyes, her lips turning upwards to reveal a small smile. Then, she pulled away. Taken aback, Stiles gave her a confused look. "What's wrong?" Stiles asked. 

Shaking her head in response, she innocently replied, "Nothing!" He shot her a look of disbelief. "Ok, fine. I got a C on my science quiz. I mean it was only 21 questions, so it wasn't that bad, but still!" Lydia exclaimed, her eyebrows fuzing together as they did when she was upset. Biting his lip, Stiles pulled her into a tight hug. 

Petting her hair, he decided now was a good time to ask as any. "Lydia, I'm sure you can go and ask to make it up. And anyways, the quarter just began, and break's right around the corner. You need some time to relax."

Nodding, she leaned back. "You're right, I do," Lydia agreed. Stiles smiled at her and motioned for her to stay put. He ran up the stairs, rummaging through the drawers until he found them. Bounding down the stairs, Stiles managed to trip on his own feet, falling onto the ground. Lydia let out a giggle as he pushed himself up, brushing his pants off.

Grinning at his girlfriend, Stiles began his well prepared monologue, with a slight new intro. "Ignore the graceful fall. Anyways, Lydia Martin. You are so beautiful and smart, but when you get stressed, you look so sad, which is not a good look on you. And, as your ever so amazing boyfriend, I take it to my heart to make you happy. So, while I can't exactly tutor you or help you understand, I can take your mind off of it. So, Lyds, what do you say we take a trip to New York? I bought the tickets, booked a hotel, and now, all you have to do is say yes and pack your bags! What do you say?" he asked eagerly. 

Lydia looked at Stiles in disbelief, until a huge grin broke out on her face. "Yes!" she exclaimed, jumping out of her seat to hug Stiles. But, just as Stiles went to wrap his arms around Lydia, she disappeared, red hair flowing in her face.

 

Waiting for someone was not something Lydia enjoyed doing, so as Jackson pulled up to her house at 11:37, exactly 54 minutes after he had called her, she was not too pleased. But, there was something else wrong with Lydia tonight, she just couldn't put her perfectly manicured finger on it. Strolling up to Jackson's car, she threw open the door and hopped in. "So," Lydia quipped. "What's this all about? I have to be up at 8 tomorrow, I'm touring Beacon Hills."

Jackson slammed on the brakes and looked at her in shock. "You're what?" 

Raising her eyebrows and giving him a look that told him he was stupid, she repeated, "Beacon Hills. I'm touring it. I'm sick of driving so long for school everyday. And the principal said if I like it, I can come, even though it is the middle of junior year."

Flabbergasted, Jackson shook his head, searching Lydia's eyes for an answer. "But, why? Why Beacon Hills?"

Rolling her eyes as if the answer was obvious, Lydia observed her nails while giving a bored reply, "My friends like Allison and Scott go there. And I'm not making many memories either. This past two years have been so hazy. I feel like I'm just missing something, and Beacon Hills can provide that. But. it doesn't matter, where are we going?" Jackson blinked, amazed at how fast Lydia was able to change her mood. "Well?" she pushed.

Reaching out for her hand, he stroked her palm, using his other hand to fix his blonde hair in the mirror. "It's a surprise babe. Just relax, it'll be fun. I need it anyways, after this long work day," he sighed, hitting the gas. 

"Yeah," Lydia sighed, "Me too." Jackson shot her a confused look.

"Did you say something?" he asked, oblivious to the girl's obvious confusion and sadness, that even she didn't know what it came from. But, as usual, Lydia just shook her head, and turned her signature red lips into a closed mouth smile. Anyone who really knew Lydia, knew that when she gave that smile, she was upset. But Jackson? Never. He was too into himself and looks to care about her emotions.

So, instead of opening up to Jackson like she should have, she stayed quiet, resting her head against the window. Take one look at Lydia Martin and it was obvious, she was an emotional time bomb about to explode as the night progressed.


	5. Chapter 5

As soon as Derek caught sight of her brownish-blondish hair, he could feel himself relax. He didn't have to do this job all alone after all. Malia waltzed in the room, giving her uncle a hug, then plopping down in the chair beside him. "What's up Unc? Where's Jackson?" 

Sighing, Derek typed away. "He left to go be with his girlfriend. Anyways, can you help me out? Go adjust the wires, I think the greens a bit off." As she walked over to Stiles, she took one look at his sleeping face, and felt her heart swell. This boy definetly became ten times cuter asleep. 

Clearing her throat, Malia shifted on her feet awkwardly, before asking, "Hey Derek, who's this guy erasing anyways?" Derek's fingers hovered over the keyboard as his typing came to a stop. 

"Malia... don't. Don't do this again. Please."

Gulping down air, Malia nodded. Right, she reminded herself, you can't do this again Malia. But, as she helped Derek, she couldn't help but sneak glances at his beautiful face. 

 

The base was pounding. Sweat and alcohol filled Stiles' nostrils. "Hey Lyds, wanna get out of here? Go into a room?" he asked quietly. Smiling, Lydia nodded. 

As soon as they got into the room, Lydia tore at Stiles' shirt, as he fumbled with her jeans. Lydia stopped, laughing at what a mess they were. She caught Stiles starring at her, shaking his head with a grin plastered on his face. 

Lydia rolled off of him, and onto her back. She craned her neck to stare at Stiles. "I'm so glad I met you."

Stiles could feel a tear roll down his eye. "I'm sorry I'm erasing you," he replied. 

"I did it first," Lydia pointed out. Stiles jolted backwards, falling off the bed. Did Lydia just say that? Could her subconscious be here too? Could they change a memory?

"Lyds!" Stiles called, as she laughed rolling over to look at him. "Lyds, what it we went back to the party and tried to create a new memory associated with this one?" he suggested. 

Cocking her head to the side, the red head pawned it over. "It's worth a shot," she said, pursing her lips. Stiles smiled, getting up and walking over to the door. Lydia kissed his neck and his hand fell.

"Why did you do it?" he asked, turning around. But, when he did, Lydia was already gone. 

 

The machine beeped, the green dot, meaning the memory was already erased, blinked turning yellow. Derek leaned forward, squinting at the monitor. "Hey Malia," he called. "Come here, I think someething's wrong!"

Malia sauntered out of the kitchen, mouth filled with a spoonful of yogurt. Twirling the spoon around in her mouth, she leaned forward to study the screen. As the dot continued to glow yellow, taunting them, she sat down. "Hm, I've never seen this before."

The two shared a worried glance as Derek began typing furiously. No matter what happened, it wouldn't turn back to green. "What does it mean?" he groaned. 

Shrugging, Malia stood back up, unfazed and hungry. "Maybe it's just the coding? I think it's fine." Shaking his head, Derek let out a small laugh under his breath. Yes, that was it. Nothing to worry about. So back to work he went. 

 

Stiles watched as a screeching Allison dove off the cliff, Scott following her into the lake right after. Pulling Lydia closer, the two laughed in disbelief at how ridiculous the two were. Who dares jump into a lake in November? 

"Guys!" Allison shouted up. "Come in! It feels amazing!" Stiles laughed and politely refused the offer, but Lydia had another idea. In a minute, she was down to her bra and underwear, grinning mischeivesly at Stiles. 

"Lydia! C'mon, we both swore no jumping in! Do you really want I get pneumonia?" he insisted, worry etched in his face. 

Rolling her eyes, Lydia beckoned for him to follow. Knowing he could never resist his beautiful girlfriend, Stiles unwillingly walked over from his comfy spot on the rock. "Don't do it," he whispered to her, knowing that she would and be completely fine, only getting the flu. Stiles wished he had followed her in now. 

As if she was reading his thoughts, Lydia smiled. "Why don't you this time?" she asked, eyes twinkling. 

In a heartbeat, Stiles was down to his boxers. They grabbed onto each other's hands, and jogged towards the edge. Then, they were airborne, flying almost, before they plummeted downwards to the chilly, November water. 

As the water engulfed Stiles, everything turned black. Swimming frantically, he resurfeced in the shower. 

Smiling fondly, Stiles welcomed this memory happily. He got out of the shower, and wrapped a towel around his waist. He walked back into his room, only to find Lydia sitting on his bed, in his lacrosse sweatshirt. 

Glancing at him over her shoulder, Lydia hopped up. "Great, you're out!" she chirped, clapping her hands. Struting over to him, she grabbed his hands and pulled him to her. "I picked out one of your favorite movie," she told him, holding up 'Saving Private Ryan' and pulling him into the bed. "We're having a movie day. So go! Get some pants on and come snuggle up!"

Chuckling, Stiles pulled on a pair of boxers under his towel. "What made this occur?" he wondered. 

Lydia laughed, then answered him. "I just wanted to be with the boy I love, isn't that normal?" she asked innocently. 

"For anyone else, yes. But you, probably not," Stiles admitted with a laugh. Lydia made a faux hurt face before pulling him closer to her. 

Throughout the movie, Stiles could only focus on Lydia. Her red, luscious lips. Her cascading auburn hair. The way she was so focused on the TV. And how much he wanted to keep her. 

As she started to fade around the time they would've fallen asleep together, Stiles tried to grip her tighter. 

"Please. Please let me keep this one memory," he cried. Then, he called out louder, "Turn it off! I don't want this anymore, turn it off!" 

And in his room, Malia could've sworn she had seen his lips move, calling out to them to turn it off.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I know I haven't posted in months and I'm sorry. I've had some personal stuff going on but I'm going to try to update more.

A pair glided across the frozen lake, late at night, laughing and leaning in for a kiss from time to time. Red hair flashed, a light shining up to signal everyone where they were. The boy tried to catch up to the girl, as she flew around him in circles and intricate paths, eventually falling down. Throwing her head back, the girl skated up to him, offering a hand. "Stiles, you're so dumb sometimes, I swear," she laughed, shaking her head at him. As he tried to hoist himself up, Stiles' weight proved too much for the petite girl, as she fell down on top of him.

Grinning, he propped them up with his elbow. "Well hello," he murmured, mesmerizing her delicate features. He studied the curve of her soft, luscious lips as she smiled at him. He fell in love all over again at how her brown, almost golden eyes lit up when he stroked her cherrywood hair, running the silky strands through his fingers. Lydia blushed, then moved her body so she was laying on the ice next to him, curled up into his side. As her hair crowned around her face when she laid her head down on his chest, she turned to stare at him.

"Show me what constellations you know?" she asked, her eyes glowing. 

Biting his lip, Stiles pondered the question. Sheepishly, he admitted, "I don't really know any."

Recoiling her head back, Lydia gave him a look of disbelief, "Sure you do! Everyone knows at least one! And don't give me that I'm not as smart as you crap, because I know you and I know you know at least one!" she exclaimed. Rolling his eyes, Stiles smiled and studied the stars.

"Oh! Osidius," he shouted out. As Lydia studied the sky, Stiles studied her. Her scrunched up eyebrows, looking in concentration. Her pursued lips, determined to find it. Her hair, gently raising off his chest in the winter breeze. Some nights he wondered how he got so lucky. Lydia was so beautiful, he truly didn't deserve her. 

Sighing in defeat, she raised her eyebrows in puzzlement. "Show me,"

Shifting his body so he could get his hands out of his pocket, he pointed to the left. "There, a swoop and a cross," he pointed out, making the motion.

Lydia laughed, giving him a look of amusement. "No way, you're full of shit!" she laughed out, biting her lip to hide her smile. Stiles widened his eyes, pretending to be offended.

"I swear, a swoop and a cross! Look it up if you dare not believe me!" he cried out. Tilting her head, raising her eyebrows as well, Lydia gave him her famous 'I don't think so' look, before giggling and letting her head fall into his chest. "Hey, hey," he murmured, grabbing her chin and raising it so she faced him. "I love you, but I'm right and you just have to accept it!" he challenged jokingly, before leaning in to kiss her.

But Lydia was not having it, she ducked away before propelling herself up onto her feet. She turned to face him, resting her head on her shoulder, red hair ablaze, framing her face like a halo. "Oh really? Well, Mr. Smart Ass, I love you too, but to prove me right, you'll just have to catch me," she purred, before skating off, making sure to give her ass a little shake. After starring after her in disbelief, the lovestruck boy hopped up and tried, failing miserably, to catch her. Letting out a booming laugh, Lydia skated around him before losing her balance. Seeing his opportunity, Stiles rushed behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, picking her up and tickling her. "Stiles!" she screeched, "Stop it!"

Through his chuckles, he leaned in and whispered in her ear, "Only if you admit I'm right." But then, like clockwork, Lydia was gone, and Stiles was left standing on the ice, holding air, face frozen in hurt.

 

A black sports car pulled into the parking lot at the local park, facing out on the frozen scenery, the world suspended in ice. As the snow fell slowly, Lydia stepped out of the car, face full of surprise. "Wow Jackson, this is beautiful, can we go on the ice?" she begged, eyes lighting up.

Smiling, he nodded. "Anything to make you happy, Lyds."

With that, she stopped in her tracks. "Don't call me that," she barked. Jackson gulped, nodding, before following her onto the ice. She slowly approached the edge, taken small steps out towards the middle. When she got there, she laid down, tilting her face so she could see the stars over the treetops overlooking the lake. Jackson lowered himself down next to her slowly. He pulled her closer, feeling her stiffen. Was he doing something wrong?

"Hey Lydia, what's your favorite constellation?" he tried.

She froze, and shot up. "Why are you asking?" she demanded.

Throwing his hands up in innocence, he plainly said, "Just a question." Deciding it was harmless, Lydia laid back down next to him, yet a strange, twisting feeling in her gut was still there. For an few minutes, the duo laid there in silence, before Jackson cleared his throat. Raising her eyes in annoyance, Lydia was surprised at how annoyed she was getting at the poor boy, for he hadn't been anything but sweet. "Do you know the constellation Osidius?" he asked.

Osidius? Why did it sound so familiar? Why did this all feel like a stolen moment? Lydia jolted upwards, scattering away from the confused, blonde boy. "Take me home!" she cried out, eyes tearing up. "Who is telling you to do this? To say this? Is this a trick?" Lydia demanded, face twisting in pain. Why was she so confused? She had never done this before? Or had she?

"Lydia, what's going on? Talk to me!" Jackson tried, running after her. 

She pushed off his hand from her shoulder, running faster to the car. "Just take me home! And then leave me alone!" she cried, head spinning. It felt as if someone was calling out to her unconsciously. Lydia… Lydia… 

 

"Lydia…" Stiles called out, pushing through herds of people in a crowded airport. His eyes scanned the crowd for a certain red head, although it might've been too late. No, it couldn't be. He couldn't lose her, not like this. She was going away to leave for her father's in Chicago, all because he was an asshole. Then, he saw her. His eyes narrowed in to her, and it felt as if the whole world disappeared, leaving only them, starring at each other. Then, he ran. Pushing people out of his way, making his way to her. She dropped her bags, and began to move forward as well.

"Stiles!" Lydia cried out, running into his arms. But, wait, no… It didn't happen like this. He found Lydia at the gate, and cried, begging for his forgiveness, until she broke down and left with him. Lydia was not supposed to run into his arms. She wasn't supposed to be apologizing.

Confused, he pulled away from their hug. "Lyds? What's wrong?" he asked, concern etched in his features.

"Stiles, there's someone calling me Lyds, saying all your lines, taking me on our dates! And I erased you, I'm so sorry! I can't make myself remember! Help Stiles!" she cried, tears falling down, staining his gray sweatshirt, the fabric growing wetter as he felt tears fall. "We have to do something!"

For a minute, Stiles thought of waking himself up, but after trying, he gave up, fruitless. The two began to think over options. "What if we go on the plane? Change the memory?" he suggested. Golden eyes lit up, followed by a nodding head. Just in time as well, for the airport began to fall apart around them. Grabbing his hand, Lydia ran through crowds, stringing him behind her.

"Hurry! We have to make it!" she cried, running as fast as she could. But the gate never ended, it just began again. Breathless, she sunk down against the wall in defeat. Mascara stained her cheeks, her sweater sleeves streaked with black. "I'm sorry," she sobbed, lowering her head into her hands. Then, Lydia felt a comforting presence surround her. Looking up, she saw Stiles taking her into her arms. 

"I'm erasing you too Lydia. We're in my memory," he explained, eyes dropping in guilt. Sighing, she stroked her hand on his cheeks lovingly. 

"Shhh, Stiles," she tried to get him to look at her, whispering sweet nothings. Lydia had never felt this hopeful. Just by looking at the endless gate falling apart, Lydia knew they didn't have much time. And she had to fix it. It was her fault she erased him and got them into this mess, no doubt about it, and while she dug her own grave and should be laying in it, whether it was her self conscious or her actual self, Stiles should at least get to remember. "Look at me, Stiles. This is not your fault. I was impulsive, you know me, I erased you! You should be angry, but you being you, you can never be angry at me. So here's what we're gonna do, we're gonna figure it out. Stiles, you're the smart one, you always figure it out. This time is no different. We may lose this memory, but it's never too late to keep the others."

Raising his head, eyes hopeful, Stiles wiped his bloodshot eyes. It was going to be hard, but he could see the possibility of finding something, anything to stop this or save them. Stiles had never given up on Lydia Martin before, and even though he was erasing her, he wasn't going to now. They could do this. Pacing the hallway, he thought it out. But the more he pondered his options, the more any faith he had drained from his body. "I can't think of anything, Lydia," he sighed, sinking back down next to her.

"Remember when we went to see the fireworks on the beach with Allison and Scott? It was in August, a kind of end of summer beach party I think. Anyways when they were erasing you, I got to that memory and realized I didn't want it to happen anymore. I tried to apologize and you didn't get it. It's weird because our minds and sub conscious know this, but we can't stop it. So in the morning we'll make up and we won't remember each other," Lydia sighed. As the walls began to crumble, she reached for Stiles' hand and held on tightly.

Smiling fondly, he moved closer. "I remember. We went to a party on that beach at someones beach house at the beginning of that summer. That's where we met, you never looked more beautiful, I can still remember what you looked like. I can close my eyes and picture you in the Grecian white tunic dress, gold sandals, your hair lightly curled, framing your face. That's when I knew. I saw you throw your head back, laughing, and I knew. I knew it was you. I knew from that moment on that it was going to be you forever. And I still know it today."

Lydia's mouth dropped open, eyes filled with sadness, and a hint of admiration. "Oh Stiles… I knew too. But, I was so afraid, I still am. I wish I wasn't how I was. And - oh god Stiles, I'm going again. Stiles! Think of something! Think! I'll see you soon!" she cried, disappearing. He nodded, leaning in, frantic. Their lips collided, sparks flying, lighting the room on fire. And then, she was gone.


	7. Chapter 7

The computer screened flashed red, alerting no one that the patient was off the map. In the faded, pale blue apartment, the fluorescent lights lit up the room, shining on the brunette curled up in the chair, fast asleep, and the older man having a smoke out the window in the corner. He surveyed the world below him, the cars passing every so often, the light on in the building across the street, the soft music playing from a distance. How could anyone live a life like this? So full of movement and new souls, yet still feel the need to get rid of someone, someone who still plagued their minds. It never failed to amaze him.

Smashing the cigarette on the window sill before flicking it into the streets below, Derek turned around to a shade of red blanketing the room. After quickly locating the source, he glided over to the computer, looking ghostly in the light. Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, he leaned forward, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "What the hell…" he breathed in confusion. The man was off the map. Derek began to type code after code, with no result. 

"Malia, Malia!" he shouted, shaking the sleeping girl awake. "Malia, he's off the map! What do I do?" Rubbing her eyes open, Malia pushed him out of her way, taking a look for herself. Biting her lip, she tried a few codes as well, with no progress. 

Shaking her head, Malia shrugged at Derek, throwing out an idea. "Maybe we should call my dad? I mean, he'll know? He invented the programs himself." Without a second thought, Derek picked up the phone and called his brother. 

 

The world was spinning, nothing made sense. Throwing herself back on her bed, Lydia let out a scream. Her skin was itching, craving the touch of an unknown presence. What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she just be normal?

For the past few weeks, Lydia had gotten little sleep and was unable to remember the past two years as well. It was if key moments were just gone, she felt like her whole life had disappeared before her eyes. Her friends swore up and down she wasn't crazy, but Lydia didn't miss the glance Allison gave Scott when she asked them. Lydia had even stooped as low as asking Greenberg at a party last week. But, the same reply as everyone else, wide, doe eyes and a 'No, I have no idea what you're talking about!" All she needed was some solid answers.

Everything she did, she did with a heavy heart. Lydia had always dealt with sadness, but nothing like this. Nothing was clear anymore, her whole life was a giant heap of sleepless nights and confused days. A year ago from today, hell if Lydia could even remember a year ago, she most likely would've told you exactly what she wanted, but not anymore. She was drowning without a ship in sight. What was she to do?

"Fuck it," she mumbled, digging through her drawers until she felt the plastic under her t-shirts. Pulling out a small bag and rolling paper, Lydia rolled a blunt and sealed it like a pro. Over the past few weeks she'd grown accustom to smoking her way to forget. Typically, Lydia was able to forget her troubles and focus on her breathing or small things, like how funny her hair looked when it was up. But at nights when she was alone, she would sob and sob and sob until she got to the point she couldn't tell what was reality or the tricks her mind was playing on her. Lydia swore that someone was with her, but she just couldn't remember who.

Lighting it up, she climbed out on to the roof from her window. Coughing at the first inhale, she gradually relaxed, letting the smoke fill her lungs, consuming her. Within no tim, Lydia was laying in the roof, strawberry blonde hair spiraled around her face like a halo, looking at the stars. A certain one Jackson had mentioned earlier caught her attention. "Osedius," she whispered, reaching out to make a swoop and a cross. A tear rolled down her cheek, as she chanted the word, like it would help her in some way. Suddenly, her mantra was broken by a voice.

"Lyds!" a male hissed. She bolted upwards, looking around her surroundings for the source. Then, Lydia heard it again, this time she located it in her head. "Lydia, it's me. Look we don't have much time, but I can stop this!" 

A look of confusion crossed the girl's face. "What in the world…?" she cried out. What was going on? Climbing back into her room, she threw open her closet doors, only to find no one there. "Where are you?" she called out to thin air. No response. Jesus, she really was losing it. A booming laugh echoed throughout Lydia's room. She was talking to a voice in her head! Oh god, she was crazy.

Collapsing into a fight of laughter, Lydia let the madness swallow her whole, taking her away to a dreamland. Wherever she was going, she prayed the boy who's voice she heard would be there. It was comforting, like an old blanket she carried around as a child. Somehow, in some lifetime, Lydia knew, she just knew that she had known this boy. Whoever he was, she hoped to meet him soon.

 

"Stilesss!" a voice called out, mocking a younger boy. The young boy sat down, pouting. 

"No, stop it Scott! I don't wanna!" the little boy cried out, sticking his tongue out through the gap in his small toothless gap where his front teeth would have been. Then, a redheaded girl grabbed his hand tugging on it. Stiles yanked it back, scooting away from the strange girl who was desperately seeking his attention. 

She moved closer, holding onto his shirt for dear life. "No, Stiles relax! It's me, Lydia! You hid me. I think I'm starting to remember! The more we change, the more confused the real me is becoming, and starting to remember. If we just stay in memories like this until dawn, we can meet up tomorrow and work this out!" she exclaimed, jumping into the air in joy. Stiles' upper lip curled into a grossed out sneer, as he shifted even further away from her on the park bench.

Just in time to save him, Scott swept in. But, instead of helping him out, he began to taunt him. "Ooooh! Stiles has a girlllllfrienndddd! Everyone, come look at Stiles and his girllllfrienddd! They have cooootiesss!" he screamed, before falling over in a heap of giggles. Stiles pushed Lydia off, moving away.

"No I don't!" he cried in defense, running towards the slide. But, they followed. All of them. The weird eraser man, the boy who stole Lydia, Scott, and the weird redhead girl who wanted to kiss him. He sprinted, further and further away, until he had reached the woods. There he sat, in a pile of tears, crying out for his mom. A stranger laid their hand on his shoulder from behind. Sniffling, Stiles turned to see Lydia, back to her regular self. 

Sighing she sat down, pulling him up against her side. Her creamy, smooth hands stroked his jet black hair, letting him know it would be ok. The tears spilled anyways, and Stiles felt like the world was suffocating him. It all was happening so fast, all the memories. He knew it had to be close to morning, but for some reason, he couldn't hold on to the hope that hiding Lydia here would work. And it killed him. He had worked so hard for her, for them. All he ever wanted was to find "the one" and he realized now it was Lydia. How was he supposed to just let her go, so she could float away and find another hand to hold?

Then, to add to the oddness of the whole situation, a modern-day Scott walked up and joined them. "You guys are idiots, who would do this to one another?" he asked, shaking his head as he sat down next to his best friend.

Shrugging, Stiles pulled Scott into the hug, and the three of them sat in silence for a few moments. With that, Lydia began to cry, starting out with a few tears until she was hyperventilating. "Stiles, Scott, I'm so sorry. I got us into this mess, and now I'm so… lost and confused. I just wish I could've prevented all of this. Oh god, I probably could have. I wish I could fix it, but it's too late to salvage anything now. I've gone and royally fucked it all up. I'm so sorry, I love you both," she moaned, grasping on to Stiles tighter. 

"Sh, you couldn't have known you would regret it. We all make mistakes, yours just happened to be a bit larger than others, but we can fix it. I know we can," he murmured. As he held onto her, the world began to crumble around them, and Scott disappeared. They heard voices above speaking, discussing a map, a machine, and memories. "It's them. They're here."

Lydia sat up and screamed. "Turn it off! Stop this, please! Let us remember!" But, they got no response. Branches fell one by one, leaves flying around them, enveloping them in a world of orange and red. Stiles turned to Lydia and gripped her face with such intensity, Lydia began to cry even harder. She loved him so much, she loved him all along, and she had messed it all has usual. "Stiles, I love you," she breathed, closing her eyes.

"Hey, look at me, look. We can't go back, we can only move forward and try to fix what we can. Maybe one day, we can pick up the pieces. But for now, we have to grasp onto the smallest bit of hope we can, and never ever let it go. It's all we have for now. It's not over yet, we still have till morning, and I'm not going to give up, not now nor ever. I want this. I want you. I love you so much Lydia Martin. God, I am so in love with you, always have been and always will be. Sometimes people have to mess up in order to realize what they have, and to learn how to grow and be better. And I have no doubt, that we will find each other again," Stiles choked out, wiping her tears from her delicate face. The wind began to pick up, swirling the leaves in a dance that meant it was all going. 

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Stiles. I love you…" Lydia whispered as the wind took her away, her smell still lingering in the autumn breeze.


End file.
